


Bertie and the Early Morning

by AlbionRaine



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Oral Sex, Somnophilia, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlbionRaine/pseuds/AlbionRaine
Summary: Every so often, when the stars align just so, I wake to that elusive and sublime picture that is a sleeping Jeeves.Bertie wakes Jeeves with that most physical show of his affections
Relationships: Reginald Jeeves/Bertram "Bertie" Wooster
Comments: 3
Kudos: 92





	Bertie and the Early Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as part of the Jeeves and Wooster bingo organised on the IndeedSir dreamwidth. Then 2020 happened and I had to drop out of that, but as I had already finished this I thought I'd post it anyway
> 
> A big thank-you to Sadieb798 for beta-ing this for me :)

There is no sight so rare and so lovely as that of a sleeping Jeeves. 

Even now, it takes me quite by surprise on the odd morning that I happen to wake first. He’s an incurably early riser you see, even on holidays he’s awake no later than the sun, whereas I prefer the far more civilised time of as late as I can get away with. But every so often, when the stars align just so, I wake to that elusive and sublime picture that is a sleeping Jeeves. Bathed in the cool grey light that filters in through gaps in closed curtains as the sun decides whether or not it shall rise today, he looks nothing short of divine.

Given such a rare event, what’s a Wooster to do but take advantage of the opportunity to take in the image of a Jeeves in peaceful slumber? It has become something of a ritual to me, if something that only occurs once in a blue moon can be said to be a ritual. I prop myself up, head on one hand, and simply observe with a smile plastered across my face that would put even the likes of Madeline Bassett to shame with its soppiness. I watch the light dancing across his jaw, just starting to show a hint of stubble normally gone well before I wake. The softness of his cheekbones, and his hair curling ever so slightly, devoid of what normally keeps it so immaculate. He is a picture of beauty of the very highest calibre, a paragon and man amongst men even as he sleeps.

Of course, it doesn’t take too long for the temptation to become too much for me to bear, as I’m sure it would for any man of flesh and blood. My hand reaches out, almost entirely of its own accord, to caress his cheek, or run through his soft and silky hair. To prove this god before me is no mere figment of my wishful imagination, but just as real as I. As the light in this quiet oasis of a bedroom grows brighter, my touches grow more daring. Barely there caresses turn to a hand laid across his jaw, and light kisses pressed to his cheek, his forehead, almost anywhere else I can reach. As he begins to stir, still not yet fully escaping Morpheus’s clutches, my affections grow yet more daring. Moving slowly down his body, taking my time to map out every inch of him slowly and methodically. This is my favourite part of the ritual. It may surprise you to find out, as indeed it did me, that Jeeves can be a rather impatient lover. Not that I would ever complain about such a thing of course, as with everything he is perfection itself when it comes to the art of lovemaking. But sometimes a chap wants to lavish his affections upon his other half without reciprocation. To worship and admire in equal parts, and to revel at the small sounds and movements produced by such attention.

I unbutton his shirt, slowly and with the reverence he deserves. I press light kisses to his neck, and then his collarbone, tasting his soft skin with my tongue and moving downwards with every inch uncovered by another opened button. His nipples, once reached, garner more attention as I savour the small changes in his still mostly even and sleepy breathing as my tongue laves over those enticing dark nubs. Eventually I continue my explorations, kissing and touching down his stomach until his shirt is fully unbuttoned and I reach what had truly been my goal all along. That wonderful hardness beneath the cloth of his pants that never fails to make my mouth water.

His pants I remove far quicker than I did his shirt, although with no less care taken. I spend a moment simply observing once more, memorising the sight just as I have with everything else, before reaching out with a feather light touch to caress his length, listening with quiet delight to those small gasps he makes with every touch. I lean down, lick at the head, and up his length until my own desire grows to be too strong and I finally wrap my lips about his shaft. Applying suction just so until I hear Jeeves groan.

“Sir...” and I pull away, my hands still resting on his thighs, a silent reminder that what we are here is not that, in this still morning with no one to bother us. 

But this too is as much a part of the ritual as anything, and I can hardly begrudge him for it. His mind, still emerging from the depths of slumber, reaches out for a name and lands upon the most familiar. I believe he still calls me sir in his head, and as I still call him Jeeves that seems only fair. 

But what comes next never fails to make my heart race, I look up at him, his eyes blinking slowly as he wakes and a smile begins to spread across his face.

“Bertie,” he calls me in nothing more than a whisper, and I grin back at him for a moment before I return to the task at hand, swallowing down his lovely prick just as deep as I comfortably can and wrapping my fingers around the rest. 

He gasps, and I hum around him, slowly pulling off and then sucking him back down just as slowly. I take my time, licking and sucking and touching, and bringing him bit by bit towards the edge. His breathing grows more erratic, and his hands begin to clutch at the sheets, so I back off. I keep him here on the edge with nothing more than my affection, and I can do so for as long as I like, so long as I keep my mouth on that wonderful velvety flesh I can keep the sun from dawning, and keep Jeeves here in bed with me.

Soon, his small breaths turn to groans, and then, most delightfully of all, the odd whimper as he reaches the ends of his tether.

“Bertie, my dearest, please” the words are nearly lost, swallowed up in a breathy moan, but they’re enough to convince me. 

I take him with earnest now, not backing off as he twines his fingers through my hair, not tugging but just resting there. His hips buck, and I groan around him as I keep up my newly set pace. Until he tenses with a deep groan, and my mouth is filled with the salty taste of Jeeves's pleasure. I keep going for a moment, and then hold him unmoving in my mouth for a moment longer as his breathing quiets again. 

I pull off him slowly, swallowing what's left in my mouth as I move back up to lie beside him. He smiles at me, kisses me deeply despite the lingering taste, and when we part I can't help but grin.

"Good morning, Reg."


End file.
